


Hello from the Sin Cave

by Of_Princes_and_Savages



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, I do a lot of those, It's Golden Lace, Mild Sexual Content, based on a Tumblr thingie, wee bit of exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Princes_and_Savages/pseuds/Of_Princes_and_Savages
Summary: One evening Mr. Gold gets an unexpected eyeful, and Lacey French is not ashamed.





	1. They Meet, Date, and Christen the Sin Cave

**Author's Note:**

> [I did the thing.]

Gold had never moved out of the two-bedroom apartment he'd had to move into after Milah filed for divorce, even when his business took off and he started making a more than modest fortune.

He'd been willing to let her keep the house, it lost that "dream home" quality when he found a black t-shirt that smelled like cheap cologne under their bed and her infidelity was dragged into the open on top of _everything_ else.

Milah had tried her best to squeeze everything out of him, and fought hard to take primary custody of their son Neal, too. Fortunately the judge was fair and ordered the assets split fifty-fifty. Access to Neal was granted primarily to Gold, however, because Milah had _no less_ than two drunk and disorderly charges and halfway through the trial she and Killian Jones, her boyfriend, had been charged with possession of marijuana, which was illegal at the time in Maine. Enough pot, in fact, that the charge went from possession to possession with intent to sell.

That did not look good on her record and since Milah's sole goal in gaining primary custody was to hurt Gold in the one place she identified as a weakness, she gave up and moved to Mexico to smoke dope and catch the clap or _whatever_ with Mr. Jones.

Raising Neal alone had not been easy. His job at the firm had kept him busy, but not so busy that he missed everything like some parents. He'd also been prone to the smothering end of protectiveness and shielded Neal from the past for so long that when Milah and Jones came swaggering back when Neal was fourteen to try and twist the knife, it nearly cost him his boy, but things were hammered out well enough and now Neal was off at college, and Gold was still working away at his job making various people cry.

His employees and partners likely believed Gold lived in a penthouse or a castle built from the skulls of crushed enemies, but no, every evening Gold retired to his modest apartment. This evening was no different: A late night, he ate a sandwich, and took a shower, fully intending to shuffle into bed as soon as he shut his curtains.

Tonight was odd because the light was on in the apartment window directly across the street. No, that wasn't necessarily odd, a few lights were on even though it was eleven-thirty.

What was memorable was that there was a beautiful woman walking around naked save her skivvies in that particular window.

Gold was not a pervert, but he was more than a little shocked, so he might be forgiven for gawping like a boy that fumbled across his first girlie magazine. Good god!

The woman's window was half open as she poked through the purse she must've been looking for. Obviously she felt the breeze, and she crossed over to close it, setting the purse on the window sill.

That was when her eyes met Gold's and all the blood rushed to his head. The northern one.

Before Gold could swish the curtains shut, or run, or faint, the petite brunette across the way grinned at him, leaning on her arms on the sill. That had to be a push-up bra. Her cleavage was far too-

That was when he swished the curtains shut.

After a decent sleep, (and an ice-cold second shower,) the incident took on a dream-like quality. Gold almost had it out of his mind when he walked out the apartment building to the street corner where he usually bought his morning paper. And he almost succeeded if he hadn't stood behind a tiny brunette in sky-high heels, and a red leather jacket and a black dress that barely covered up her perky, rather familiar ass.

_Oh fucking hell..._

Any hopes that the young lady wouldn't notice him went out the window when the newstand owner dropped two of the quarters in Gold's change that rolled to the ground. Despite running the risk of giving anyone behind her on the street a show in such a short dress, the woman had bent down and retrieved the fifty cents. And she grinned at Gold's undoubtedly horrified expression.

"Well hello neighbor," she crowed, plinking one quarter, then the other into his numbly extended palm. "How do you do?"

Gold was out of his element now: A beautiful, stunning young woman was smiling at him in skimpy-but-fashionable clothing. He was uncomfortable, especially considering he'd seen her mostly-bare ass the night before from a window. And when Gold was uncomfortable and out of place, he tended to make an ass of himself. He could feel himself stiffening all over, really freezing up in terror but to an outsider-he'd been told by Neal,-it made him look cold and cross.

"Very well, thank you, miss."

"French, Lacey French," she continued grinning, smug as a cat perched somewhere it wasn't supposed to be. Not too different, matter of fact. "I think we're beyond most formalities, yeah?"

"Please don't turn your exhibitionism into anything less than my being in the wrong place at the wrong time, dearie."

 _Crap_. There was another thing: Sarcasm dripped out of him when he was having an internal crisis. And as predicted, Lacey 'I haven't proper knickers' French drew herself up to her full height and narrowed her blue eyes.

"I am not an exhibitionist, _you_ are a voyeur. I didn't mean to give you a show, but you could have looked away, you perv."

"I'm not a pervert, and I haven't the time to waste on this anymore!" Gold said, and that was true because he had to catch a cab within the next five minutes before he was late for work. "Head back to your little sin cave, dearie, have a pleasant day."

It was rude, uncalled for, and he knew he'd struck a nerve because Lacey was clutching her purchased magazine like she was seriously considering beating him senseless with it. Gold turned and walked away before she got the chance.

He'd made it to the office on time. Two people cried before lunch, put a bit of what he'd heard an underling identify as "fear of Gold" into Isaac Heller so he'd close his damned case instead of dragging it out another week, and made another person cry after lunch and put out a fire accidentally started by Regina Mills, who was competent enough but tended to get too wrapped up in her own emotions and vendettas. All in all, not a bad day. He was home by six, rather early, and decided on a night in.

He changed clothes and when the niggling temptation would not go away, he peered out his window to the other apartment building. It would have taken him a minute to pick out Lacey French's apartment from all the other windows...

Except there was a large sheet of paper taped to the glass:

**Hello from the Sin Cave**

Huh...

Gold snorted, resolving to ignore the sign. So she was advertising her den of debauchery. Good for her. He managed to ignore the sign until he noticed it was still up there the next day.

* * *

Lacey was very sex-positive, she wore the term "slut" like a badge of honor. Which wasn't to say she was a _promiscuous little bitch_ , as several people had called her throughout her life once she grew boobs and decided not to be ashamed of them. Lacey had standards.

 _No means no, it always means no, yes, mid-coitus too, keep_ that _the fuck away from_ there _, thank you. And a condom, use a fucking condom. I'm not the one with a dick that needs a condom you fuckwit, why didn't you bring one? The pill isn't just so you get off easy, it's for my cramps and lady-hormones, and it doesn't protect me chlamydia, so where's your rubber?_

Now, if he was cute enough, and ignorant in the sense that he'd never learned better, Lacey would let him slide. Which was why she kept a handful of condoms in her purse.

She'd forgotten her purse in the living room of her apartment during her one-night stand with Will last night. (Sweet boy, kind of a pity-fuck, he'd go back to his blonde high-maintenance girlfriend as soon as their spat was over.) She didn't remember leaving her window open until she felt a chill, and by then she was already parading about in her thong and bra, but her heating wasn't so great so she'd better shut that thing.

She had an audience.

Lacey looked up to find some guy in a dark blue shirt staring at her from across the street in another apartment building. He had longish hair, it looked soft, and though it was hard to tell, Lacey thought the poor man was in shock. She grinned at him until he yanked the curtains shut and vanished into his apartment.

Dirty old men Lacey was familiar with: They gawked at her long legs, bought her drinks, were _way_ too forward and generally prompted her and her gal-pals in the bar to find a back exit and run like hell.

When she met him at the newsstand? Oh holy shit, not a dirty old man. A silver fox if Lacey had ever seen one.

Sharply dressed? In a three-piece suit, check. Great hair? Deliciously threaded with silver, softly feathered layers of the stuff, definitely check. Gorgeous eyes? Brown and check. And a fucking Scottish accent? Oh hell yes! He could have strolled off the BBC and into her living room. Where Lacey would have promptly jumped his bones.

Unfortunately, he was embarrassed to be caught the day after. Usually Lacey had to do some of that bone-jumping before a guy was embarrassed to see her in the morning, this was new. And he had to play the part of an offended asshole on top of that. He stomped off after calling her apartment a "sin cave" and left Lacey fuming. She wouldn't even have met him if she hadn't decided to try the newstand closer to home rather than the one across the street from her workplace.

Oh fuck him...

When she got home from her shitty job at a flower shop, (she'd grown up in her father's Boston-based flowershop before he kicked her out, it wasn't much, but it paid the bills while she worked on her online degree,) Lacey had looked out the window. It was hard to pick out which of the windows belonged to Mr. Foxy-Asshole, but that hardly mattered. Right?

Oh who was she kidding?

Lacey dug out a sheet of paper and a Sharpie. She decided to take the same approach she'd used on the term "slut", and with a bit of tape, she hung up her sign.

**Hello from the Sin Cave**

She liked it. Batman had the Bat Cave, and Lacey had her Sin Cave. Even though she doubted Mr. Better-Than-You-In-My-Fancy-Pants would do much, the idea of living in a Sin Cave had grown on Lacey for the few days she had the sign up.

That was when she noticed that there was a white paper sign hanging in one of the apartment windows across the way. And a quick glance showed that the sign read, in tidy black letters: **Get out of the sin cave and go to church**. There was even a little cross at the bottom.

Lacey snorted, peeling off the first sign and taping up a new one:

**I'm not spiritual--and that's Sin Cave, capital letters**

Within two days, Lacey noticed Mr. Funny Man's sign had changed to read something different.

**Noted. Your spirits come from a bottle, I presume?**

The implication that she was a drunk would have made Lacey a lot angrier if she hadn't noticed the sign when she had a homemade rum and coke in her hand. Well played Mr. Intuition. She taped up another sign soon after:

**Yes. My patron saint is Johnnie Walker of the Black Label**

And for the hell of it, she put a winking smiley face up there.

* * *

Gold had yet to see Lacey French again at the newsstand. He presumed she went to another one, though she obviously wasn't a regular at his newsstand if he'd never seen her before there. His initial response to her advertisement of her _Sin Cave_ had been given a response in turn. And something made him reply.

He regretted it because it opened up a conversation into liquor. In hindsight he'd been implying she was a bar whore, (nice work, Gold,) but for some reason her reply was almost cheerful in professing her affection for Johnnie Walker whiskey. At least she was of some taste, then. He had said as much in his next sign: At least you have good taste. She'd given a winking smiley face, so Gold drew a simpler smiling face in turn.

Her response to that, which he noticed a few days later, had made him turn red as the label on another blend of Johnnie Walker.

**I like men the way I like my whiskey: Aged and Scottish**

Even more damningly, there was a little heart in the corner of this sign.

It was less than a day before someone was pounding on Gold's door. He peered out the peephole to find Jefferson outside, who was the only person in the building Gold was really familiar with. Jefferson was something of a friend, though when their friendship started Gold couldn't say, and he'd pointed the young man to an empty apartment in the building when he'd had a spot of financial problems after the death of his wife.

Jefferson pushed his way inside and said, "Hi, how are you? Nice weather isn't it? Are you dating the woman across the street or working up to it through a bizarre courtship ritual?"

It should be noted Jefferson was possibly mad, so, maybe it wasn't so odd they were friends after all.

"What?"

Jefferson made an "out there" gesture. "The signs, what's up with that? I've been watching you two go back and forth for two weeks now, what's the deal? It is a lady, right? You know me, I'm an equal opportunity lover. No shame in your taking interest in a strapping young man-"

"First," Gold held up a finger before Jefferson caused him a migraine. "Lacey French is most certainly _not_ a strapping young man, she's a tiny woman-"

"You're calling someone tiny? Oh my god. That's hil-Wait, is she like a little person or something? Like a dwarf?"

"No! She's just-" Gold held a hand up to what he dimly recalled as Lacey's proper height. "She's just a wee thing. Probably like that. Second, or rather, thirdly, it's none of your business what I get up to in my social life."

Jefferson rolled his eyes. "Well it is my business when my daughter starts noticing your signs. I've already told her a certain four-lettered word is a strong grownup word, I'd rather not explain the use of it in verb form because she saw it in one of your weird paper sext messages."

"A _what_ message?"

Jefferson was rolling his blue eyes once again, but seemed to take pity on Gold: "Just ask her out already."

Or not.

"I can't do that! Are you mad?" Gold scowled. "She's younger than you are, I refuse to be that old man that dates younger woman-"

"Oh please, Gold, you are not looking for arm-candy or a trophy wife, that already puts you ahead of most older guys I know. Just, like, take her out for a drink or something. You know what she likes already, aged Scottish whiskey," Jefferson paused, then grinned widely. "And aged Scottish men."

"Get the hell out of my apartment," Gold ordered without sufficient heat to motivate Jefferson. Damn it.

Jefferson made himself comfortable on a chair and a few more minutes of less headache-inducing conversation was made that was almost pleasant. The younger man needled Gold a little more on his way out, and once he was gone, Gold hobbled into his bedroom and sighed at his old sign still hanging in the window. Ugh...

* * *

**Care to prove it?**

It was an odd response, Lacey had to admit. If she didn't know better, she'd say he was challenging her...somehow. So she replied- **How so?** -and waited. Sometime between her putting the sign up in the early evening and her waking up in the morning a response was posted.

**Would you care for a drink at The Rabbit Hole on Friday?**

Oh.

_Oh..._

Lacey was suddenly highly conflicted. Because on the one hand, maybe there was more embarrassment than jackassery involved in their one and only face-to-face confrontation. He could be like Lacey and get bitchy when he was having an internalized meltdown. On the other hand...maybe not. Maybe he was an ass. Maybe he only wanted her _for_ her ass, which he'd already seen because she hadn't kept the windows to the Sin Cave shut!

She decided on "yes" and then immediately started texting Ruby Lucas and Mulan Fa with her predicament. Ruby would likely already be at The Rabbit Hole, and Mulan had a glare that could kill lesser beings and freeze boiling water, and years of martial arts practice under her black belt. They would be the perfect backup in case Lacey's one drink with Mr. Mystery went south.

So she stuck up a sign that said **It's a date**.

And immediately took it down and reposted one that read a more neutral **See you there** instead.

For dignity's sake, she tried not to think about how many outfits she tried and discarded in a similarly indecisive fashion.

She ended up settling on the backless blue sequin dress and the towering heels that gave her miles and miles of leg. She thought about stockings, but nixed them because the night was warm enough, and she had great legs on her own. The way Mr. Dream Date's eyes dropped down, then slowly dragged back up her body to her face, proved she had made a wise choice.

And Lacey was cheered by how he almost fell off his stool when she took her seat, and he noticed the back of her dress. Or lack thereof.

Ruby and Mulan hovered on the fringes of Lacey's line of sight, but they needn't have bothered after all. Roan Gold (so Mr. _Silver_ Fox was Mr. _Gold_ , huh,) was a bit of a nervous mess at the first part of the date, but after his first drink, (Johnnie Walker Blue Label, fuck, it made the whiskey Lacey was used to taste like paint thinner,) or maybe once he ascertained Lacey wasn't out to humiliate him, he grew a little more confident. Not overconfident, he didn't brag about himself or compare what Lacey had to say to his own life like most men she attracted had the nasty habit of. He was just comfortable.

She kissed him after her second drink, which despite what her reputation in The Rabbit Hole suggested was her usual amount so she was able to think clear enough and make her way home safely, unless she'd found a buddy for the night. Which she thought she had. It was her choice to kiss Roan, and one she did not regret. He kissed back a bit shyly until she slid her tongue into his mouth, and then he sucked on her tongue and slid his fingers into her hair and-

Ruby and Mulan seemed to get the message that Lacey was in good hands. Ruby still sent an advisory text- _Call me when your done with him or in the morning, whichever comes first! ;D_ -and Lacey decided that was excellent advice.

Now that Roan Gold seemed to know what to do, he had no trouble in escorting her out the bar and calling them a cab. The naughty bastard even slid his fingers up her thigh until he grazed her dampening panties, and if it weren't such a short ride to her place, she would have been tempted to return the favor. There was really no point because there was a respectable bulge at the front of his expensive trousers, barely disguised by his coat as Lacey brought him up to her apartment.

What better place than to consummate...this, than in the Sin Cave?

Roan had pressed her against the door as soon as she got them inside, snogging her thoroughly. Lacey pushed him off of her and dragged him by the tie into her bedroom.

His suit was gorgeous and smelled like him-sandalwood, she believed,-but it needed to come off and there were so many damned buttons! Jacket, vest, shirt, undershirt. Fortunately the wrapping was not prettier than the present. Roan wasn't young and slim, but the little weight at his middle was sort of cute, in a way. He was solid, with smooth warm skin and a nice cock. By the time she got his undershirt off, he had her dress up over her head and he gawked at her bare breasts.

She could almost see the minute he realized she'd gone bra-less because he moaned and tackled her to the bed, kissing and sucking his way down her chest with flattering attention. And then once he'd thoroughly explored her breasts, he moved further down still.

Lacey's last coherent thought before his tongue flicked over her clit was that she wouldn't be calling Ruby until the morning...

* * *

The glimpse of a Lacey in her underwear from across the street, and the reality of a named, writing Lacey in bed hardly compared. She was _glorious_ , and even the fact that he had to roll out of bed to retrieve the condom he brought in his jacket pocket hadn't been enough to humiliate Gold. All said and done, they collapsed in a boneless, sated heap in the bed and Gold didn't wake up until morning.

Both of them scrambled to find clothes because both of them were going to be late for work, but there was a distinct kiss and a "call me!" before he bolted out the door.

Jefferson had caught Gold on his way back to his apartment early in the morning. He was unshaven, his suit wrinkled, and he needed a shower to wash of the distracting scent of Lacey French, but it was hardly a walk of shame. Not when a fifty-year-old man had kept pace with a twentysomething woman for the better part of the night.

Not even the unbearable smugness Jefferson regarded him with for the next week could wipe the stupid grin off his face.

When he came home from work, a surprisingly early day, Gold saw a new sign hanging up in Lacey's window:

**Satisfied with my love of the aged and Scottish?**

Gold snickered, writing up another sign and hanging it in his window.

**Satisfied, but still curious.**

He was only a little surprised to see Lacey in the window while he was still taping up the sign. She pulled hers down and then held up another one with a series of numbers on it...a phone number. Her phone number.

Well.


	2. Ruby's POV of their first date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Leni-ba asked for a non-main character's POV. Here's Ruby's!

Ruby Lucas had been asked by Lacey to keep an eye on her during a blind date...because she didn't know the guy, or his name, and had met him because he'd been peeping on her through a window. That had enough red flags that Ruby had asked Mulan to come along as back up. Lacey was pretty savvy, and Ruby would like to say she had trust in her, but this was just freaking nuts. Like, straight-up-pecans-and-pralines nuts. Wow.

The men that went after Lacey wore leather jackets, had great bodies before great brainpower, good for no-strings-attached quickies and one night stands. The Keith Nottinghams and the Will Scarlets that frequented The Rabbit Hole. This was the type of guy that went for Lacey, and the kind of guy Lacey claimed to like because it was easy. (Everyone liked to point out the "easy" girls, but god, every man in the bar looking at a miniskirt was easy as hell.) So Ruby, waiting on Lacey to show, sitting at her watchpost at a table in sight of the bar with a martini before her and Mulan beside her, was expecting that kind of guy to show up. Some guy in his twenties or thirties, your standard _tall-dark-and-handsome_ stranger in leather, not a lot going on upstairs.

Oddly enough, the man Lacey strutted up to was none of these things. Except _dark_. He was wearing a black suit, Ruby supposed.

This was some older guy with graying hair, in that fancy suit, and Lacey perched herself on the bar stool next to him with a smile and that backless blue dress. The guy almost fell off his stool, and Ruby wondered what the hell his deal was, and why Lacey was spending time on him.

Ruby was aware that Lacey had a thing for older men, even if she didn't admit it. But this guy at the bar had to be pushing fifty, dressed like a funeral director, and had a crooked nose Ruby could see from here. He didn't quite look like someone Lacey showed interest in. Ruby hated to think it, but maybe he was rich? Lacey was fiercely independent though, she wouldn't do well as a kept woman or a sugar baby...okay wait, did you even call the recipient of a sugar daddy a sugar baby?

Okay. No more martinis. Focus, Lucas.

But apparently, if there was one thing this guy Lacey had been calling _Mr. Mystery_ could do, it was kiss. They started snogging at the bar and Mulan discreetly looked down into her empty glass while Ruby raised her eyebrows. Okay, so maybe there was more than money on the table. The guy apparently had a very clever tongue from what Ruby could see. Usually she complained about guys jabbing their tongues down her throat, but Lacey was definitely enjoying herself.

Figuring Lacey was getting whatever it was she wanted out of her date, Ruby sent her a text message telling her to call after she was done, or in the morning, whichever came first. Classy kisser or not, you couldn't be too careful.

"Well that was interesting," Mulan said thoughtfully once Lacey and her silver fox slipped out. "Think they'll make out alright?"

"They were making out just fine to me." Ruby snickered.

"You're not funny."

"Shut up, I am delightful!"

"I'm gonna need another drink if we're gonna talk about this..."

The next morning, Ruby got a text from Lacey saying _**I'm alive ;)**   _and on her lunch break she came over to Granny's Diner while Ruby was on her break. From the smug grin on Lacey's face, she made out very, very well indeed.

Actually, as the weeks passed by, Ruby noticed Lacey had gotten along with Roan so well, that she'd quit going home with other guys at The Rabbit Hole altogether. To popular opinion, the impossible had happened: Lacey French was going steady. To the more practical, Lacey had found her match. Ruby went over to collect a jacket Lacey had borrowed one chilly night because she'd chosen style over warmth and never quite returned one day, and she saw this paper sign taped to her friend's window.

 **Feeling better this morning?** was written on the paper with a little winking smiley face underneath it.

Ruby had to get over to the window to read it because it was facing the street, and she noticed a white sheet of paper hanging in another window across the way. She squinted and made out the words scrawled across the paper as reading **Quite. Though I look forward to visiting the Sin Cave again in person.**

Lacey had jokingly started referring to her apartment as "the Sin Cave" lately. And while it fit and Ruby didn't disagree with it, she wasn't sure where it came from either. Hmm...

Maybe met her match in more ways than one.


	3. The First *Real* Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by still-searching47: _Sin Cave!Lacey: Have you and Gold gone out again? Have you gone back to his place yet?_

When a man like Roan Gold, a man with fancy suits and a job that not only required a suit but that paid well enough he had more than seven of them, said, _“Can I take you to dinner?”_ it had given Lacey a momentary flash of panic. Roan was good for those just by nature of his being older, more experienced, and wealthier than Lacey was. There was this instinctive fear that she was too childish and trashy for a serious relationship.

Apparently Roan had his own flash of panic, (his were frequent and much more imaginative than Lacey’s,) because he back-pedaled and said they didn’t have to, he was happy with the way things were, etcetera etcetera.

Lacey decided on a comfortable middle-ground place. Instead of a fancy French place or a bistro, (which she had never been to, what the hell was a bistro anyway?) they picked a chain restaurant. Like an Outback or a Ruby Tuesday’s or something, Lacey couldn’t remember what. Probably not Outback though. She might’ve had to kill someone in there.

Australians did not throw anything “on the barbie”, goddammit.

Dinner was good, the bottle of white wine wasn’t the cheap stuff, they talked about his son and Ruby and Mulan’s surprise engagement, and Lacey wouldn’t have been Lacey if she hadn’t played a creative game of footsie under the table with Roan. “Creative” meaning she got her bare foot up Gold’s thigh and teased his erection until the magnificent bastard prodded the handle of his cane between her thighs. He managed to smile at their server and ask for the check while he was doing it to.

Whoever his ex-wife was, she was a fucking idiot.

Lacey wrapped around his arm, her panties embarrassingly wet between her legs, as they walked out the restaurant.

“Would you like to see a movie?” Roan asked her. She couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

She leaned closer to his ear so the old tourist-looking couple near them wouldn’t be offended.

“Not unless you fancy a public indecency charge,” she growled. “Take me home. Now. Or I will be going down on you in the movie theater and I don’t care who sees.”

Roan went very still.

“Is that a fact?” he asked, his voice pitched oddly.

Lacey snorted, falling against his shoulder with a laugh. “Home, now, please?”

“Yes love.”

The taxi stopped on his side of their street, and because they’d been canoodling in the backseat like handsy teenagers, it seemed like the right time to go to his place.

When they were finished, sprawled on his cozy leather sofa with a blanket drawn over them, (they hadn’t made it to the bed, but Lacey now had fond memories of the arm of this piece of furniture,) Roan was playing with a loose curl of her hair when he sighed.

“Maybe next time I should cook dinner for you here. It might save time.”

“Yeah…and we could watch a movie.”

“If you like,” Roan nodded, kissing the crown of her head.

Lacey waited a moment.

“And I could still go down on you while we watch.”

Roan groaned. “You are insatiable.”

“And you love it.”

He smiled, Lacey could hear it in his voice: “Aye. I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic (and I) are in America. Where we have a restaurant chain called Outback, which for reasons I'm too young to understand I suppose, has an Australian stereotype narrator for their commercials and a running theme of the Australian Outback in the décor. You may understand Lacey's comments now, because if I were Australian, I might be miffed too.


	4. Neal Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Neal gets his first glimpse of Lacey...thanks to Stillsearching47 for the prompt. :3

Neal knew the way to his father’s apartment so well that he could have made it blindfolded. Y’know, not accounting for traffic, on and off the sidewalks.

Pop had moved them into this apartment after the divorce, and even though he was substantially wealthier now, to Roan Gold it was home. His father would deny it but he was extremely sentimental, so it being the apartment where Neal essentially grew up was probably one of the reasons he hadn’t gone looking for another place to live.

He jogged up the stairs to their floor and knocked on the door. He’d decided to surprise Pop with a, well, surprise visit this Thanksgiving. They didn’t really celebrate, since his parents were from the UK and didn’t get the concept, (neither did Neal, really, what did turkeys and Puritans invading North America have to do with anything in life?) but it was a free vacation when excellent frozen pies went on sale, so, to each their own.

Pop’s door swung open, but…that was _not_ Neal’s father answering.

A girl who must’ve been maybe five feet tall, without those killer heels, (Emma might’ve had a pair like that, women had tough legs and feet,) opened the door. Her auburn curls were piled in a messy up-do, and there was thick dark makeup around her shocking blue eyes, a coat of pale pink lipstick on her mouth that was edgy without making her look like one of the moody kids Neal saw milling around Hot Topic at the mall. Not that she was a _kid_ , he judged she was maybe closer to thirty than twenty, wearing a short leather skirt and a scarlet blouse with a sweetheart neckline that wasn’t quite long enough to cover the waistband of her skirt.

Yeah, that wasn’t Pop.

“Can I help you?” she asked, sounding vaguely Australian, Neal supposed.

“Uh…” he glanced at the apartment number, which was ight even though this was wrong. “Does Roan Gold still live here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I, uh, I’m Neal. His son…who are you?”

“His son? Oh, ‘kay, hold on a second,” she held up a finger, turning around. And shutting the door in Neal’s face.

He’d be more offended, but he’d lived in apartment buildings before. He understood the precaution of not letting someone into your apartment.

It took maybe two minutes for the door to open again and Neal was pulled into a hug by his father.

“Neal! What are you doing here son? Why didn't you call me?” Pop chuckled, and Neal hugged him back even though he was watching the girl seated on the sofa, watching him back with a smirk.

“Uh, surprise?”

“Well I am at that, come in, come in,” Pop ushered him inside, closing the door. “When did you get in town?”

“Just awhile ago, y’know. Everybody left the dorm for Thanksgiving so, hey, mob mentality. Lemmings off the cliff. Who’s your friend?”

“Lacey? Oh, this is Lacey French, she lives across the street.”

Well, Neal didn’t think he could read “she’s a hooker” anywhere in that…

Lacey got up and walked over, her heels giving her more of a strut than a walk really. She smiled less, mm, scarily, at Neal, holding out her hand. “Hi, I’m sorry if I was rude before but if you’ve lived in apartment buildings before you learn not to trust some random stranger at the door.”

Ah. See?

“Understood,” Neal nodded. “So I’m Neal, but I guess you knew that…”

“Yeah, honestly though? Your dad talks about you, like, a lot. I’d have figured it out eventually. So how’s college in the States?”

It took about five seconds for Neal to figure out Lacey and his father had to be doing it. Which is _never_ a pleasant realization, considering in Neal’s mind Pop only had sex the one time needed to conceive Neal.

It took about twenty minutes for him to piece together that Lacey was _not_ a hooker, just a girl across the street with a taste for short skirts and heavy makeup. That was a better thought, Neal was a little more than just relieved at that. Pretty Woman be damned, Neal did not want his father going through some mid-life crisis in such a fashion.

It took Neal just ten minutes more, thirty minutes total, about the time Pop sat down by Lacey and they sort of gravitated towards each other until Lacey was almost tucked against his side and Pop was sitting up a little straighter, that Neal realized they were happy. He could piece together easily enough after that.

Lacey was very blunt, honest to where some people might call her rude. She voiced her opinions, which were surprisingly intelligent, and once in awhile Neal caught a glimpse of some kind of other personality behind the mask of a fearless young woman. And she had a sense of humor that was sort of warped for polite conversation without being crass.

She was a lot like Roan Gold.  



	5. They Move In Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still-searching47 asked: _Hello from the Sin Cave!Lacey: Haven't checked in with you in a while. Have you and Gold ever thought about combining Sin Cave with whatever Gold calls his apartment and moving in together?_

It started with a bottle of shampoo.

Despite the one time in a movie theater when Lacey made good on her…well it wasn’t quite a threat, but you get the idea, the point being: Most of the time, Lacey either went to Roan, or he came to her apartment across the way. She happened to like venturing into his apartment more, because it was slightly larger with two bedrooms, and he liked making her breakfast in the morning and Lacey was a terrible cook so she rarely had ingredients lying around.

And while Lacey had used many a man’s shower, (or not,) she felt a little guilty for using up Roan’s shampoo on her much longer, much thicker hair in the morning. So, one day she bought herself a bottle of her regular stuff and a hairbrush, and stuck it in the bathroom.

No big deal.

It was usual for Lacey to keep condoms in her place of course, and she’d been under the impression that was all most guys needed. But then, she also only had guys over for a night at most. One day Roan overslept a bit and had to scramble across the street to get dressed and brush his teeth and general show up presentable to work. So, Lacey decided it might be prudent to buy a cheap toothbrush for him to use when he stayed over.

It had been Roan’s idea to bring over a suit in a garment bag, left hanging in Lacey’s closet. It was pretty smart, but Lacey found herself looking funny at the garment bag most days. It looked…strange, in her closet. Not bad strange, just, _strange_.

Although not nearly as classy, Lacey had been given access to a drawer at Roan’s place she used for keeping some makeup and fresh undies in, stuff like that. Just general things for personal care.

No big deal there, either.

It wasn’t until after Lacey had meet Neal, Roan’s son, and he stayed over for dinner, that she realized Roan had a box of bowtie pasta and two jars of that creamy vodka pasta sauce she loved so much. (Ha ha, irony that the barfly liked vodka sauce, don’t mock it ‘til you’ve tried it!) And her favorite yogurt was in the fridge, and a bottle of creamer even though Roan drank coffee black.

She went home and gingerly poked around, finding she had a box of earl grey tea Roan preferred, and strawberry jam he liked to spread on his toast as opposed to her Nutella. She actually had eggs in her fridge and milk that wasn’t out of date because they went grocery shopping together.

Okay…maybe this was a _little_ deal.

She gingerly asked Roan, after this bugged Lacey for a few weeks, if he’d noticed they were living out of each other’s apartments.

He’d thought about it for a moment, and Lacey could see the minute he realized what she was talking about. His ears turned red and he swallowed thickly. “I…suppose we have…is that bothering you?”

“Kinda…”

“I could take my suit bac-”

“No, no, it’s not like, well,” Lacey inhaled deeply. “Why don’t we just move in together already?”

Roan blinked. “Really? You won’t miss the Sin Cave?”

Maybe, maybe not. Her fondest memories of the Sin Cave were tied to Roan Gold and his silver tongue and clever fingers. And the first time he made her an omelet for breakfast. And finding washing dishes was a lot more fun when someone could dry while you washed or vice versa.

“Well,” she grinned. “Let’s think of it as the Sin Cave moving location.”

Roan grinned back.

Lacey had never moved in with a guy before. She’d always considered it being the end of her independence, which was why she firmly resisted whenever a guy started pushing for her to move in with him. It was always with him, too, they didn’t like the idea of moving into Lacey’s apartment. Probably because they wanted extra room to have babies or didn’t like thinking about the other men she’d brought back there. And her experience living with her father had been less than stellar; He couldn’t cook, wouldn’t clean, bitched about Lacey’s state of dress, etc., etc….

And it was a big deal to find very little had changed at all. Lacey went out with her friends every few weeks or so still, Roan didn’t tell her to wear longer skirts or higher necklines when she did. Of course, why would Lacey want to fool around with any guy at the bar when she could come home to a pretty fantastic one already? She still had her crappy job, and Roan had said she didn’t have to do that if she didn’t want to, but he didn’t push when she said she liked having a job to bitch about because otherwise she’d just sit around the house and watch TV all day.

She’d teased something to the effect of, “You wouldn’t want me to get fat, would you?” and he just said something goofy and sappy like, “I think you’re perfect no matter what size you are.”

(But, he also didn’t complain when she took up yoga not long after moving in, but that was really another story.)

The first thing she did moving in was tape her **Welcome to The Sin Cave** sign (which she’d kept because reasons,) to the door of their closet, and then they set about _christening_ the new location…  



End file.
